


The Hands That Hold Me, You, Us

by fayetality



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Based On The New Light Novel Cover Because I'm Insane, Fluff, M/M, lotion, wrist touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:06:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27120152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fayetality/pseuds/fayetality
Summary: Kiyoomi loved the winter. Too bad his hands are always dry as fuck.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 13
Kudos: 275





	The Hands That Hold Me, You, Us

**Author's Note:**

> Yes this is based on [this](https://twitter.com/JUMP_j_BOOKS/status/1318457222578401280?s=20) new light novel cover art. I'm unwell.

Winter was Kiyoomi’s favorite time of the year. 

The frigid chill set his bones on edge, a perpetual thrum of excitement bubbling with the blood pumping double time to regulate warmth under his skin. The slow spreading comfort of hot chocolate trickling down his throat, settling into each crevice of his chest, his belly, his legs. Thick corded sweaters to nuzzle in when the wind whipped too strong and the only option was to huddle inside for safety. 

He especially loved it when it snowed, the sight of white mountains piling higher and higher on rooftops and telephone poles, a fleece coat yet undisturbed by humanity and it’s desire to keep moving, despite the elegant display of nature’s beauty before them. 

He loved the off season and the longer practices it brought. Not because he hated playing, but the lack of scheduled games meant long bouts of conditioning, building muscle and power to be utilized when the proper time came. He was allowed more time for flexibility training, which led to less impact on his joints, and he always found that, during these times, he needed far less salonpas than usual. 

Of course, there were a few downsides that came with the chill. Winter is favored by bacteria and viruses alike, hopping from person to person with no regard for the sanctity of the season. 

But of course, this gave Kiyoomi the perfect excuse to go straight home after every practice, to stock up on groceries so he could bunker down in his apartment alone for weeks on end.

Kiyoomi loved winter. 

Well, he’d love it a lot more if he didn’t have the driest fucking skin known to man. 

His hand washing habits, albeit effective, always led to perpetual cracks on the backside of his palms. Dry winter air mixed with relying on hot water for warmth was the perfect recipe for itchy red skin and an ill-tempered Kiyoomi. 

The easiest solution, of course, was to use lotion to soften his skin and ease the irritation. Only problem being, lotion had an absolutely horrid texture. It was oily and slick and managed to smear itself across every touchable surface, leaving swipes of glistening fingerprints in its wake. 

Each year, without fail, Kiyoomi assumed that maybe it might be different this time. Maybe he’d find a lotion that would be  _ kind _ to him and allow him the one joy of having supple skin that didn’t catch on the cuffs of his woolen sweaters all the damn time.

But alas, Kiyoomi had yet to discover a lotion he could stand, and was instead forced to suffer with the dry, scaly lizard skin of the wintertime. 

So when Atsumu approached him in the locker room after an intense endurance practice, still huffing lightly (not that Kiyoomi noticed, of course), he didn’t expect a small white bottle to be pressed into his palm. 

“Your hands look nasty as hell, Omi-kun,” Atsumu said. “Try it – I made it myself.”

Kiyoomi glanced warily at the object in his palm, skin crawling slightly at its unfamiliarity. “Lotion doesn’t work for me,” he muttered. But when he tried to pass it back to its owner, Atsumu instead reached delicately for his wrist. 

Kiyoomi jerked back instinctively, but when Atsumu rubbed a thumb against his inner wrist, he froze in place. Just the fact that he was being touched was enough to make him want to squirm out of his own skin and set himself alight. But this wasn’t an attempt at an intimate gesture; Atsumu was trying to show him something. 

“I used it right before practice. Ain’t my skin just the softest damn thing?”

He wasn’t wrong. Atsumu’s skin really  _ was _ soft. But more than that, it felt dry.

Well, not dry exactly, just not wet. There was no trace of oil, no sticky residue left in its wake. Just soft skin swiping warmth onto the unblemished canvas of Kiyoomi’s wrist. 

It took him a few moments to remember that he sort of needed to breathe to survive, so he quickstarted his chest and pulled his arm out of Atsumu’s grasp. “I’m not using this. I have no idea what it is. It could give me chemical burns for all I know.”

Atsumu grins lightly. “I can text you an ingredient list if you want. It’s a couple of products mixed together, so I should still have the labels ‘round somewhere.” Then, as if sensing Kiyoomi’s continued wariness, he added, ”Plus, if anything  _ does _ happen, I’ll let you sock me in the face a few times next practice. Scouts honor.”

“As if you were ever a boy scout,” Kiyoomi scoffed. 

“You don’t know that!”

Indeed, that was true. There was still very little he knew about Atsumu despite being on the same team as him for the past two years. 

He knew the obvious, of course; bratty, impulsive, undeniably selfless (off the court was an entirely different story, though). 

But he still didn’t understand why he went out of his way to do things like this. 

Like last week, when Bokuto was complaining about his favorite Vabo-chan plushie getting a tear in the side and Atsumu stole it for a day to stitch it back up. Or how a few days ago, Kiyoomi had seen Atsumu place a bottle of melatonin and a small note in Adriah’s locker before practice, after Atsumu had discovered his teammate’s recent bout of insomnia. 

“Got to make sure my players are in tip top shape, y’know,” Atsumu reasoned when Kiyoomi questioned him about it. 

As if that explained why he always went out of his way to maintain secrecy after his good deeds.

As if that explained why he’d willingly spent time and money testing various lotions for Kiyoomi, until he finally got the ratio right. 

As if that explained why Atsumu’s eyes glimmered with a little bit more than fondness as he looked up expectantly at Kiyoomi. 

“If this gives me hives, I’m sending you the hospital bill.” Curling his fingers around the smooth surface of the bottle, Kiyoomi tucked it into his pocket and raised the strap of his bag over his shoulder before making his way to the door. 

“If it works, just be prepared for me to say ‘I told you so’!” Atsumu called to his retreating form. 

For the rest of the night, bleeding slightly into the morning, Kiyoomi’s wrist tingled with phantom touch. 

~

It worked.

Kiyoomi was floored. The lotion  _ worked.  _

It had taken some time to settle fully into his skin, but after a few minutes of rubbing, the cream seemed to sink right between each flaky crevice and immediately spread cool relief throughout his hand. He touched his finger to the bathroom mirror, only to find the palest of whorls printed into the glass in its wake. Amazing – not a trace of grease left behind. 

It smelled good too. Whiffs of cucumber and mint tickled Kiyoomi’s nose and he wondered, deliriously, whether or not Atsumu smelled the same way. 

He twisted the cap back onto the bottle and placed it gently on the edge of the sink. He caught his reflection in the mirror, small smile settled snugly against his lips

This winter was shaping up to be a rather good one so far. 

~

“So,” Atsumu drawled as he dropped an elbow against Kiyoomi’s shoulder right before warmups were supposed to begin. He wiggled his brows impatiently, waiting for the praise he undoubtedly believed he was due. “How was it? Pretty awesome, huh?”

Kiyoomi glanced down at his fingertips, rubbing his pointer and his thumb together in circles, not unlike the touches Atsumu had pressed into his wrist the day before. 

He was dully aware that Atsumu was touching him  _ again _ , casual yet subdued, featherlight with implication.  _ Is this okay? This is okay right? I can stop if you want me to, just say the word. _

“Yeah,” Kiyoomi smiled. “It’s pretty awesome.”

**Author's Note:**

> Anyways I'm [sexy](https://twitter.com/catboyhokage/status/1318530502710726662?s=20) bye.


End file.
